


Find Me a Better Reason

by thegenuineimitation



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Character Death, Ensemble Cast, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, M/M, Romance, Violence, coarse language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:44:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegenuineimitation/pseuds/thegenuineimitation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi met Eren Jaeger in a crappy diner called Shiganshina. He doesn't quite remember how they fell in love, or when. He remembers when Eren got accepted into Trost U and helping him move into the dorms. He remembers long nights in his one bedroom studio apartment in Maria. He remembers Eren promising him he'd be back from Rose and visiting his family before his birthday. </p>
<p>He remembers calling in the middle of the night the night of the tri-cities outbreak and telling Eren to get out. He remembers being helpless, listening on the other end of a bad phone connection while  his lover miles away discovered that the dead were walking the Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That Night

Levi didn’t sleep alone very well anymore. That probably came with getting used to having a brat that took up more than his fair share of the mattress and generated heat like a furnace sharing his bed nine nights out of ten. There had been a time when two weeks with the bed to himself would have been a relished luxury, hell, it had taken six months for him to let the brat in question sleep in his bed, or even in a bed with him. It hadn't been so long ago that he used to force Eren to sleep on the couch when he stayed over, and yet now, when the brat was gone, Levi sported dark circles under his eyes and a wickedly bad temper. 

Eren had been gone for ten days, visiting his family and friends in Rose right after his first semester finals so that he could spend Christmas with Levi, and it was starting to feel like the week would never end.

Unable to sleep without the brat Levi had been awake and sitting on the couch, blatantly not paying attention to the news he had on at low volume as he drank mug after mug of strong green tea and stared into space.

Then the newscaster, your typical mid-thirties pseudo go-getter with a painted on smile, screamed. He screamed the kind of raw piercing scream that made you sit up and pay attention as chills crawled up your spine and you fought the urge to turn tail and run.

Levi whipped around and could only stare wide-eyed as the camera was jostled, throwing the picture of the newscaster having his throat ripped out by a forty-something woman in a blood-stained bathrobe with a chunk of her scalp missing off kilter. For a minute he thought he’d sat on the remote, flicked over to some made-for-tv horror flick, but then a boney office worker staggered drunkenly into the camera and it fell, giving Levi a perfect view of Shiganshina.

Eren had worked shitty hours at that diner for a year, it was where they’d met, it was a thirty minute walk from the Jaegers’ apartment in uptown Rose.

Levi’s body was moving, hand reaching for the remote, even as his mind tried to process the realization that there was legitimately some kind of riot going on in Rose. The volume jumped to thirty and his apartment was filled with screaming and wet, choked snarling for a moment before the live feed split and half the screen was taken up by a newsroom.

“Oh god, Gerry—” sobbed the anchorwoman, staring blankly at what was probably another screen somewhere.

Out of nowhere a middle-aged techie, balding and fiddling with papers and trying to talk on the phone ran into the picture.

“I’ve just had word that this is considered a statewide emergency, downtown Rose has been completely overrun after an outbreak of an unknown pathogen at the Titan-Wall Regional Teaching Hospital earlier this evening. Doctors are saying that this is not an isolated incident and that we’ve seen comparatively minor outbreaks over the past three months with the first case being in—”

“Shut the fuck up Bob,” said a petite woman with glasses storming onto the stage.

“Look if you’re watching this we’re all in shit. The disease hits you with flu-like symptoms progressing to a fever that kills you. But, and this is very important, if you die from the fever you get back up. Okay. You become some kind of fucking zombie or whatever. The point is the ones who get up will try to eat you. You can see it right there on the live feed if you don’t fucking believe me.”

“Addie—”

The techie reached for her trying to pull her off-stage. The woman shoved him away.

“Shut up Bob! Listen, Rose is gone. You can’t stay there. So, get the hell out of your houses and make your way to Maria and Sina. The military and the National Guard are being dispatched to set up barricades around the other two cities in the tri-city area and to contain the outbreak. There will be emergency aid stations and refugee centres positioned all throughout the cities, get there safely and don’t let yourself get bit. The infection is spread through bites—”

“Addie, they’re here, they’re in the studio,” pleaded Bob, abandoning trying to usher the girl in favour of all but lifting the hysterical anchorwoman out of her chair, “We gotta go, Gretch, honey, get up we gotta go!”

“Go without me, I’m almost done,” she said, moving closer to the camera, “If you get cornered destroy the brain, that’s how to put them down.”

“Addie!”

“I’m coming!”

There was the pounding of footsteps and the clack as they engaged the push-bar of what Levi assumed to be an emergency exit off-screen.

Tripping over his own feet in his haste, Levi ran for his bedroom and the cellphone on his nightstand and quickly hit redial.

The alarm clock read two forty-eight AM and Levi began chanting, “Pick up the phone you shitty brat, come on, pick it up! Pick it the hell up!”

_‘Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice messaging system—’_

Levi hit redial again and this time Eren picked up on the second ring, his voice rough with sleep and annoyance.

“I swear to god, Levi, if the world is not fucking ending I’ll—”

“Eren get the fuck out of bed right now,” Levi snapped, “Get your family and get the hell out of Rose. Come to Maria. Come back to the apartment right now.”

“Levi, what the hell?”

“There’s no time to explain properly,” hissed Levi, his heart racing with secondhand urgency as he heard the snarling start up over the speakers in the other room, the zombies presumably having invaded the newsroom, “There’s been an outbreak of some kind of disease—”

“Hold on a second, something’s happening next door,” Eren said.

“Don’t!” Levi all but shrieked, “Go out the window or something, Eren, please, get out of there! Eren!”

There was a bang, loud enough that Levi heard it through the phone speaker.

“Dad! Dad what’s wrong?”

“Carla! Mikasa!” bellowed a man Levi assumed was Grisha Jaeger, “Wake up!”

“What the hell is going on?”

“There’s not time to explain! Eren, get some shoes on. Where’s—”

Levi didn’t hear the rest of the question as the man moved away from Eren.

“Holy shit! Mrs. Loontwill—is that—Jesus, what happened to you—”

“Eren get away from her!” Levi screamed into the phone, “Eren don’t—”

There was a scream and a crash, the sound of glass breaking, echoed by another shriek of fear then a wordless cry of dismay. Levi listened, helplessly, as the phone clattered to the floor and the call cut out.

He noted detachedly that his hands were shaking as he hit redial.

_‘We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service at this time—’_

He hung up and hit it again.

_‘We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is not—’_

And again.

_‘We’re sorry, the—’_

“Fuck!” Levi swore chucking his phone across the room.


	2. First to Fall

For a long moment Eren thought he might be having one of those dreams. The kind where you dreamt you'd woken up but were really still sleeping. 

Mrs. Loontwill was eighty years old if she was a day. She was a flighty little old lady, five foot nothing with fluffy white hair that she piled up on top of her head and adorned with flashy clips and pins. She’d been married six times and had three children and five grandchildren. She’d brought Carla a terrible fish casserole when they’d first moved in across the hall and she used to babysit Eren and Mikasa on the weekends, back when both their parents were working.

She staggered through the door, unmistakable in her flowered nightdress and bunny slippers. There was blood all down her front and for a brief moment Eren thought she needed help.

“Holy shit! Mrs. Loontwill—is that—Jesus, what happened to you—” he said, taking a few steps toward her.

 Then she turned and he saw in the light pouring in from the hall through the open door, half of her face was missing, just torn away, revealing the muscle and bone underneath, her eyes bloodshot, staring and unfocussed.

The phone slipped forgotten from his slack fingers and slid across the floor.

Behind him his mother screamed shrilly and Mikasa made a noise somewhere between a retch and a sob.

His father turned, and, for Eren at least, the world slowed down.

There was the glint of light on metal as Grisha raised his arm, and Eren had plenty of time to be surprised that his father even knew how to hold a gun let alone fire one, before Mrs. Loontwill lurched forward with a wet snarl and grabbed his arm biting down on it like it was a turkey drumstick and today was Thanksgiving.

The gun clattered to the floor, and there was more screaming as Mrs. Loontwill used her teeth to peel off a long strip of his father’s flesh from the bones of his arm.

Even as his brain screamed at him to move, to help his Dad, to pull Mrs. Loontwill off of him, Eren remained rooted to the spot, unable to do more than stare.

Marshall Horwick from down the hall staggered drunkenly into the room behind Mrs. Loontwill, his snarling mouth already stained with a grotesque, caked-on mixture of fresh and dried blood. He made a beeline for Eren’s father, dropped to his knees and tore another gurgling scream out of Grisha along with another chunk of flesh. When that cut off the sound of wet smacking and his mother’s gasping sobs sounded unnaturally loud in the apartment.

Eren was transfixed, watching with horror as a sudden realization washed through him. His neighbours were _eating_ his father.

The building’s head of security, Hannes, a cheery drunkard who’d dreamed of becoming what he called a proper policeman in his youth, shuffled into the apartment behind Marshall, catching Eren’s attention. His arm was dangling at an odd angle and he moved with the same aimless, confused stagger that afflicted Marshall and Mrs. Loontwill. His head turned, tracking towards them, and his body followed, a few seconds out of sync. Hannes took a few fast lurching steps forward and tripped over Mikasa’s duffle bag and hit the floor with a distinct thunk, snarling in frustration as the strap caught his foot.

And then without warning the world sped back up to real-time.

Everything was raw and loud and urgent —sound and sensation crashing over him like a wave, and the need to run thrummed through him, as his body finally supplied him with enough adrenaline to handle the situation in front of him.

He turned, grabbed his mother’s arm blindly, and ushered her limp and unresisting form towards the back wall of the apartment as far away from the door as they could get.

“We have to go,” he muttered to Mikasa, glancing over his shoulder, “Something isn’t right. They aren't right.”

Hannes was attempting to claw his way forward on the slick hardwood floors, Mikasa’s bag held him back though, the bulky thing kept catching on the lip of the shoe well.

“What do we do?” she whispered back.

Eren cast around for a weapon or an idea.

“I don’t—there, the fire escape. Mikasa help me with this.”

Together they managed to get the living room window, which tended to stick ever since it had been re-painted, open enough for them to squeeze through. Mikasa kicked the screen out of the frame roughly and crawled out onto the rickety old fire-escape, knocking over a few of the potted plants on the ledge there.

“Mom,” Eren urged, trying to usher his mother through the window, while she stared past him as though he wasn’t even there, “Mom! Come on, we’ve got to go.”

He shook her a bit, and her head lolled and rolled on her neck like a doll’s for a moment before she batted him away with a whimper, her hands fluttering at his face uselessly.

“Eren,” hissed Mikasa, crouched on the fire escape, “Behind you!”

Eren darted another glance over his shoulder and swore when he saw more people staggering into the apartment, some he recognized and some he didn’t, tripping over Hannes as they reached for him with clawing hands, their mouths opening and closing as though anticipating the bites they were going to take out of him.

No longer concerned about not hurting his mother, not if it meant getting them both out of there alive and uneaten, Eren took her roughly by the top of her head and folded her through the window, leaving Mikasa to tug her out onto the fire escape landing.

“Eren!” shrieked Mikasa.

A large sticky hand reached out and grabbed clumsily at his shoulder, a gurgling moan bubbling up right next to his ear. Eren ducked his head instinctively, tucking it in close to his neck as he used the momentum from the guy’s sudden lunge to send him tumbling to the floor with a meaty thunk. An involuntary noise, part fear and part disgust, clawed its way out of Eren’s throat.

He ducked through the open window, tripping on the ledge in his haste and hitting the mesh of the fire-escape with a breathless grunt.

Mikasa was quick to reach up and slam the window shut, catching a few scrambling fingers with the wet crunch of bone.

The person on the other side of the window should have been howling with pain, but aside from being stuck and thwarted he didn’t even seem to notice, throwing himself bodily at the window, his head cracking on the tempered glass and leaving dark brownish blots in the inside of the windows.

“Come on, this way,” urged Mikasa, looping an arm around his mother’s waist and padding down the stairs of the fire-escape, the metal softly creaking under her feet.

It was dim in the alley behind their apartment building, the lights from the street not doing much with the buildings pressed so close together. The night air was damp and warm for December, the earlier snowfall having melted sometime in the night, but still too cold to be running around in bare feet and pajamas. The metal of the fire escape burned on the soles of his feet and when they hit street level he knew it would only get worse.

Eren had the vague thought of breaking into one of the apartments on the way down to look for shoes and coats, but as they minced down the levels of the fire escape and peered through windows all they saw was more of the same. People attacking other people, small groups of them huddled around and tearing apart another person, occasionally there was the firecracker retort of a gun or a high shrill scream.

“What’s the plan?” asked Mikasa when they reached the final platform of the fire-escape the ladder still folded up next to them.

The alley below them was free of people for the moment but Eren could hear that out in the street things were just as bad as they were in the apartment building, screams and snarls reverberating off the glass and steel structures and intermingling with the sound of alarms and emergency sirens.

“Get the hell out of Rose,” said Eren, shrugging.

“Great plan,” snapped Mikasa, folding her arms over her chest as a shiver wracked her slender frame, “Really heavy on the detail.”

“Look, we’re okay for now and it’s only a couple of hours until sunrise,” Eren said, thinking quickly, “As soon as it’s light we’ll get down from here and find a car. Head to Maria.”

“Alright,” agreed Mikasa with a sigh, “Alright.”

The two siblings hunkered down, sandwiching the trembling Carla between them, pressing their backs against the rough brick of the building behind them, and waited.  

“Eren,” said Mikasa hesitantly, “Mrs. Loontwill and Hannes from behind the security desk they—what were they?”

“I don’t know.”

“Your Dad, he’s dead isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s like before.”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll be okay,” she said after a long moment, her tone brooking no argument, “As long as we have each other we’ll be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now that you all know that Eren at least made it out of the apartment alive you can all breathe a sigh of relief. Now please continue on to the horrifying realization that he still has to get out of Rose and make it all the way to Maria. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated!


	3. Not Dead Yet

Levi swore for a good five minutes, trying to ignore the tight feeling in his throat and the bare-faced dread pooling in his gut as he knelt and examined the remnants of his cellphone. He cursed again when he saw that he’d thrown the damn thing hard enough that, rather than just flying apart into its various pieces, he’d cracked the thing right down the middle and it wasn’t turning on for love or money.

“Shit.”

Levi stalked into the kitchen grabbing the cordless landline phone that he never used and the address book he kept in his desk drawer with handwritten entries he’d stopped updating since the digital age had become an actual thing.

Still, Hanji’s number hadn’t changed for the past fourteen years and he was grateful to his friend for being suck a freaky stickler about the whole thing.

He punched in the familiar number and waited, with no small amount of anxiousness, as the phone rang. If it clicked over the voicemail he thought he might drive out to the other side of Maria and punch the thrice-damned woman in the face.

“Hanji here.”

“Hanji, I need to get into Rose. Today.”

“Hello Levi, yes, I’m doing well thanks, so how ‘bout that freaking zombie apocalypse going on right now. Wasn’t expecting that. No siree bob.”

“I have zero patience for your fuckery, shitty glasses, can you get me there or not?”

“Not,” Hanji replied mercilessly, her tone sharp, “What are you even thinking Levi? Have you turned on even one of your electronics or looked out your window?”

“Hanji—” sighed Levi, tapping one finger impatiently on the polished wood of his desk.

“The city is a wreck, Rose is overrun with infected. Not just like a little overrun either, seriously overrun. The military has pulled out of the city, giving it up as a lost cause and concentrated on fortifying Maria and Sina. The whole state is under quarantine, and as of an hour ago they’ve instituted a curfew, across what’s left of the tri-cities. There’s been looting and rioting since they declared Rose a deadzone—”

“Hanji—”

“So you can’t get out of Maria. Or well maybe it’s possible, but not with the kind of equipment you’d need just to walk down the street in Rose. And even if you somehow managed it—cause I recognize this is you we’re talking about so I’m willing to give the benefit of the doubt—refugees coming from Rose aren’t being let into the city and in some reports they’re being shot on the highways, so you couldn’t come back.”

“Zoe!”

That caught her attention. Not surprising since he’d used her first name maybe twice in all the years he’d known her.

“Eren is in Rose.”

There was a shaky indrawn breath over the open line.

“Alrighty then, why didn’t you lead with that? I’ll get you there,” she said cheerfully, “But first we’ve got to find him. Get your computer open, I’m going to hack into traffic cams and satellites.”

“Is that legal?”

“Legal shmeagal, what the government doesn’t know won’t get me thrown in jail,” said Hanji and Levi could almost see the dismissive hand-wave she was likely giving him, “I’ve already got sensors up, well, pretty much everywhere, but the extra input from the cameras is always useful.”

Levi opened his computer and opened video chat with Hanji who promptly worked some kind of secret computer mojo to split his screen so that one window showed her clacking away at her keyboard somewhere across the city, out in the outskirts, and the other half showed the view from a traffic cam on the highway just entering the city proper if you were coming from Maria.

“Ookie-day, recon, so here’s highway 27, I’m gonna patching in the satellite feed now so we can get a better look.”

Hanji worked as a freelance designer of imaging software, and often built her own hardware to go with it, she also did hacking for Erwin, and by extension Survey Corp.  on the side. There wasn’t a thing she couldn’t do given access to electronics and a power source and Levi spared a rare moment to be grateful for her freaky, computer-obsessed brain.

The picture flickered and took on a greenish cast for a moment and then panned out to show a slanting bird’s-eye view of the highway. It was the scene of a massacre.

The highway was stopped up in a gridlock of cars moving out from the city. Trapped like sitting ducks they waited obediently for the roadblock set up and manned by the National Guard to let them through. Meanwhile scores of infected lurched into view, staggering through the patchwork of cars, ripping people out through their windows and chasing down the ones who left their vehicles to try and run, falling upon the ones who were pushed aside and trampled over by their fellows.

“Well, fuck.”

“I told you,” said Hanji, changing the view with a few lightning fast clicks, “And officially it’s only been eight hours since the first reported case.”

“Are there any survivors still in the city?”

“Mm? Not a huge amount, but more than you might expect. Here, check out the thermal imaging.”

A third, smaller, window appeared on his computer screen without his say-so, and he scowled faintly as the program loaded and showed him a cartoony 3D layout of Rose filled with clusters of red and green dots.

“All the red dots are heat signatures within human range, had to factor in a generous p-value to account for small children and large dogs but we’ve got about eighty-seven percent accuracy, ninety-two percent with the input from the cameras.”

“Could you identify a specific person out of this?” asked Levi.

“I could narrow the range with enough data, but it’s not a great search method so I want to try and find a match with the cameras first. I’m running that picture of Eren from his birthday against images picked out by the cameras and filtering for matches over eighty percent as we speak but do you know where he was staying?”

“With his parents, they live in an apartment complex not too far from my old place. Hang on I have the exact address around here somewhere.”

Levi made his way over to the fridge where Eren had stuck a post-it with his parents’ address and contact information for Levi in case something happened and he needed to reach them. Levi  almost laughed at the irony as he rattled off the address to Hanji and sank back into his desk chair, not paying attention to her fiddling as the feed from the cameras in Rose honed in on scenes of carnage and desperation at every turn.  

A good portion of the residents of Rose that weren’t infected but were dumb enough to be wandering the streets for whatever reason had figured out that shooting the infected in the head was the only way to take them down, but not that they didn’t have enough ammo to spare to shoot every single staggering corpse that lurched into their line of sight. TIme after time they shot up the streets, felling infected left right and centre only to be overrun when they ran out of bullets and shells. 

“The noise seems to draw them in,” he commented dully to Hanji after watching a woman bring a herd of them down on herself and her small daughter by shooting just one.

“Well, they are still human,” said Hanji, as if the infected were doing the fucking reasonable thing and it was Levi who was fucked up, “We track by sight and sound primarily, then scent.”

“So, they see you, they hear you, and you’re shit out of luck.”

“That's right, but,” she chirped, “They’re pretty easily distracted, I’ve gathered some preliminary observations, look here.”

The view changed on the screen again, the time stamp on the video and the darkness of the picture revealing it to be from hours ago, and Levi winced as the secondhand sound of a fire-alarm rang through his apartment. Hanji was right though. While all the infected lurched towards the building a family of five or six was able to pile themselves and their bags into a mini-van just across the street without problems.

“I don’t care about your observations. Just find Eren you shitty glasses.”

“Yes, yes.”

The sun was starting to show its ugly face by the time Hanji announced that she’d found something with a triumphant, slightly maniacal, cackle.

“What am I looking at Hanji?”

“Exterior view of the corner of the apartment, I’ve zoomed in on the street facing windows with the camera across the street there.”

“Can we see inside?”

“Maybe, nobody’s got a computer open- too bad I could've hacked a webcam-but, there, give me a second here, I've got something.”

Levi gave up all hope of understanding what was going on in front of him despite the fact that it was his computer screen he was staring at. Windows opened and closed rapidly as what was playing across Hanji’s screen was transmitted to him and then one window was expanded to full-screen.

“Okay, interior view of the apartment from the security camera across the hall—Oh. Oh shit, Levi I’ll—”

“Don’t you dare,” Levi snapped, sharp eyes taking in the picture before him and tamping down on the urge to scream or cry or do something equally demonstrative.

The Jaegers’ apartment was a mess of gore and broken glass, evident even with the shitty picture quality that Hanji had provided him with.

“Can you clean it up more?” he asked.

“Levi, I don’t know if that’s such a great idea,” she said with uncharacteristic seriousness, “We’ve got eyes on four infected in the apartment and one of them is—”

“Pretty fucked up, thank you Hanji, I did notice. If it’s him I need to know and if it’s not we need to keep looking, so can you clean the image up or not?”

“Yeah, yeah okay. Here give me a sec.”

The picture brightened to comparatively high-definition quality and Levi’s gaze flicked from the flash of neon green that was Eren’s stupid phone case to the glint of light off the barrel of an old model revolver, studying the room with the dispassion of a professional before forcing his attention over to the bodies.

The one flopping around the entrance-way was mostly still human looking, one of the security guards for the building, then there was the old lady wandering around the kitchen her front crusty with dried and drying bloodstains and bits of flesh. Levi would guess she was a good bit responsible for the mess on the floor of the dining area.

The big guy near the window was clearly not Eren, not with a waistline that size and a head shaved bald.

“You want me to tell you what I see?” asked Hanji.

“Give me a fucking minute,” Levi growled forcing himself to look at the glorified hamburger of torn muscle and flesh that, thanks to an exposed skeleton, was still in a vaguely human shape.

The height was wrong. It wasn’t Eren.

That tore an immediate sigh of relief out of Levi, and he allowed himself to take in the other details that supported his conclusion. The shiny black loafer hanging off an ankle that was mostly separated from the body, the thick warm felt coat that hung in tatters around arms stripped bare of flesh.

“It’s not him,” he said to Hanji, “Looks like it’s probably Grisha Jaeger though, given the quality of the shoes and coat.”

“That was my guess too. Here, though, the guy by the window, take a closer look at him.”

“Are you wearing your damn glasses? That’s not Eren.”

“I know that,” Hanji shot back, “Just look, alright, you stubborn jackass.”

Levi made an annoyed noise but did as instructed, they were wasting enough time without getting into an argument.

“It’s what, stuck?”

“Exactly, I think its hands are caught in the window, here check this out.”

The picture switched back to an exterior view, the camera outside the Jaegers’ building panning around to show the mouth of an alley.

“What am I looking at Hanji?”

“There’s a fire escape that runs all the way up the side of the building.”

“Oh ho,” said Levi a fond smirk quirking one side of his mouth slightly, “They rabbited out the window and onto the fire-escape, you’re thinking.”

“You’re thinking it too,” Hanji cackled, “He can’t have gone too far in what, two hours. If he’s in the city, the cameras will pick him up, but for now we can assume he’s still alive.”

“Resourceful brat,” said Levi, standing and stretching, determination driving him now rather than fear, if Eren was alive he'd find him, and he'd do anything to keep them safe.

“Alright, I’m gonna get my kit together, you holler if you find something.”

“Can do!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I took some serious liberties with the abilities of security cameras and imaging software, let's all just assume that Hanji has single-handedly revolutionized the technological world, okay? Okay, glad y'all agree ;P
> 
> Thanks to everyone for your wonderful comments and abundant Kudos! You guys rock! Next chapter is gonna be a bit angstier just to forewarn you guys.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan
> 
> This is my first attempt at an SNK multi-chaptered fic and very much inspired by the Walking Dead mid-season finale. The chapters are going to start out short as I run through a four part prologue series and then will probably get longer as the story progresses. 
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated! And I promise I'll try to answer everyone, even if it's just a few words of thanks.
> 
> Here's hoping you enjoyed!


End file.
